


A Stolen Mile of Fingerprints

by MagicMarker



Series: The Wizard and the Warlock [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, First Kiss, French Kissing, Kissing, Labenda Swamp, M/M, More or less compliant anyway, S2e20, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 15:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15076643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMarker/pseuds/MagicMarker
Summary: After defeating the gators in Labenda Swamp, Fjord and Caleb steal a few moments alone.





	A Stolen Mile of Fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [inheritanceofgeek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek), also known on tumblr as [mrsmarymorstan](http://mrsmarymorstan.tumblr.com/), for the beta work.

“Why are you helping me?

Fjord’s frown deepened as he dabbed at Caleb’s wound with a rag soaked in alcohol. Sure, it was from Nott’s flask rather than some apothecary’s shelf, but as far as he was concerned there wasn’t too much of a difference. They were in the middle of a swamp halfway to nowhere, and well. Needs must. 

“Well,” he shrugged, drawl stretching out the word like taffy, “we need every one of us in tip-top shape if we’re going to make it to that safe house and back.”

“Ah,” Caleb replied, as if it were a complete sentence. 

Fjord waited for a moment, expecting some quip or another to come afterwards, but Caleb just stared silently at the blood and booze mingling in rivulets down his arm. Fjord did his best to mop it back up, holding the ruined piece of linen against the wound with one hand while he tried in vain to unravel a bandage with another. 

They were more or less alone at the moment, sitting on the driest piece of ground they could find, leaning against petrified tree trunks and ignoring the damp seeping into their clothes. Several yards away Jester worked on carving open a gator’s belly, and Molly was holding court for the rest of them, telling some carnival story that Yasha had obviously heard before. It was nice, though Fjord kinda wished Caleb would give him more than five words and a grunt. 

“Whaddya mean, ‘Ah?’” Fjord asked. He futzed with the end of the bandage for another tick before he gave up and handed the roll to Caleb. 

“I mean,” Caleb continued in his usual clipped syllables, “it makes sense, you know, to do what you must to ensure the success of the mission. I need healing and Jester seems...” He handed the end of the bandage back to Fjord and hissed as he pressed the cloth to his arm. “...Distracted.” 

“Sorry,” Fjord muttered. “And that’s not what I meant.” He paused for a moment, wondering if Caleb would have anything to say to that. But the stubborn wizard just tugged his dingy sleeve out of the way again and watched Fjord wind the bandage around and around.

“I care about you, Caleb. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” 

No, Fjord didn’t like it one bit. When the alligator’s bite had actually connected with Caleb’s arm, Fjord had felt a rush of panic and anxiety stronger than even when Nott had been knocked unconscious. It had surprised and worried him, and he would have just chalked it up to some strange surge of adrenaline if it didn’t feel so good, so _right_ in this moment for his fingers to skim across Caleb’s skin, tracing freckles and raising goosebumps.

Caleb swallowed, and Fjord tried not to watch the rise and fall of his adam’s apple. “Well,” Caleb proclaimed with those harsh Zemnian consonants, “I appreciate it. Thank you. 

Perhaps the attraction wasn’t so sudden, Fjord mused as he worked. Caleb’s arcane abilities had fascinated and amazed him ever since they first met. But deep down he had to admit to himself that magic wasn’t _exactly_ the reason he was so painfully aware of every movement Caleb made. There was something else compelling about this dirty, wretched man, and Fjord was caught in his gravity despite himself. 

He tied off the end of the bandage and patted it gently. “All done,” he declared. Yet neither one of them moved. He was tired, both from the battle earlier and from holding back the full measure of these surprising feelings. Caleb just kind of seemed like he was always tired. 

They sat quietly for a while, watching bugs flit across the surface of puddles and half-listening to Kiri’s imitations of Molly’s Infernal. Their thighs touched lightly when Caleb shifted, and Fjord looked over to see his head lolling back against the log, his eyes closed, his mouth moving silently as he thought about gods-knew-what. 

Oh, that mouth. Fjord let a smirk ghost across his features. That mouth, surrounded by reddish-brown stubble, capable of delicate incantations and stinging one-liners. That mouth, already framed with frown-lines. That mouth, with its too-rare smiles. What would it be like to kiss that mouth? Or that long, tempting neck?

It was heady, exciting, letting himself think about Caleb in this way. Crushes had always been fun for Fjord in his adulthood, not agonizing, and now that he’d named the feeling he rather wanted to relish in it. Perhaps, even, to pursue it this time. He normally wasn’t so aggressive about these things, preferring to tease both the object of his affections and himself with the slow burn of blushes and stolen glances. But Nott was usually clinging to Caleb like the world’s noisiest shadow, and she was so damned protective. Fjord would be foolish to waste this chance to see if Caleb might be interested too. 

“You are amazin’, though, you know that?” Fjord said, putting a bit more meaning into it than he ever had before. When Caleb lowered his chin to look at him, he pushed on. “The things you can do… Make a mansion, out of thin air? I’ve never even heard of such a thing, and all you need to do is study up for a little while. I mean... Wow.”

“Well, it’s not out of thin air, precisely, the spell creates a pocket dimens—” 

“Aw hells, you know what I mean.” Fjord rolled his eyes, then turned his body to more fully face Caleb. “I’m just sayin.’” Slowly, telegraphing his movement like he would with a feral cat, Fjord reached out to touch the knot of bandages again. Caleb’s eyes flicked down to watch, then back up to meet Fjord’s. 

“What? What are you, ‘just sayin’?” Caleb’s thick accent made his impression of Fjord’s nearly incomprehensible, but the tension around his eyes softened a bit which was encouraging.

“I’m just sayin,” Fjord repeated, “that I’m real glad you decided to stick around.” 

He let his hand slide down to Caleb’s elbow, then to his wrist. Gently he turned Caleb’s hand in his, ran a thumb over the heel of his palm. Caleb made a small noise, a quick intake of breath, and when Fjord looked back up he found Caleb’s eyes wide. He did it again, letting his calloused thumb drag over the soft skin, and Caleb pulled his lower lip between his teeth. 

Excellent.

“I am too,” Caleb murmured. His bright blue eyes flit back and forth, searching Fjord’s face for something. Fjord hoped it was there. 

In the long moment that followed, the air hung heavy between them, charged with the possibility Fjord was now certain Caleb felt too. He leaned in further, tilting his head to the side, and looked down to Caleb’s mouth. Perhaps unconsciously, Caleb wet his lips and swallowed. When he didn’t move to meet him, Fjord all but closed the distance between them. Letting his lips ghost over Caleb’s, he whispered, “I’d like very much to kiss you now.”

There was a hesitation, a moment where Caleb leaned back just a little, and Fjord was sure he’d absolutely blown it. He opened his mouth to apologize, explain he’d just misread everything somehow, but then Caleb’s hands came up to Fjord’s cheeks and he pulled him back in for a firm, decisive kiss. 

His lips were thin compared to Fjord’s, but he slotted their mouths together with the kind of precision Fjord had come to expect out of everything Caleb did. He was purposeful, but no less passionate, pulling at Fjord’s bottom lip and darting his tongue out to taste the space where they were joined. 

This was exactly like Fjord had hoped it would be, to feel Caleb’s hands on him, his short beard scratching against the corners of his mouth. Fjord felt a jolt of arousal, a surge of adrenaline that subsided slowly only to spike again when he felt Caleb’s teeth on his lips. Now, more than ever, he was thankful for his fastidious dental work. The look of pity on Jester’s face days before was worth not having to be careful now as he returned Caleb’s intensity. 

Fjord twisted his fingers into the long hair at Caleb’s neck, and he was rewarded for the gentle tug with a quiet gasp. Moments later Caleb exacted his revenge, his tongue darting inside Fjord’s mouth, and he had to quash a strangled growl before it could get too loud. His stomach was doing turns, a warmth building low in his gut as their mouths found a rhythm together. Oh, they would have to do this more often, he thought, if it was going feel this good. He slid his hand down to Caleb’s hip and snuck his thumb under the hem of his shirt to feel soft skin. In response Caleb canted his hips toward Fjord, shifting towards him, and—

“Hey Fjord!” Jester’s voice sang out across the swamp. “Where are you? It’s starting to get dark.”

He broke away from kissing Caleb and pressed their foreheads together as he took a second to catch his breath. Fuck. Of course. It couldn’t have lasted.

“I think he was helping Caleb,” Nott said, and Fjord hoped he was imagining the note of suspicion in her voice.

“Yeah,” Fjord called over his shoulder, clipping the word short in his frustration. “We’re over here.”

“Don’t worry, Nott, we are fine,” Caleb added, shooting those little dancing lights up into the fog above their heads. But his fingers grazed over the scar across Fjord’s eye and cheekbone, and he mouthed, “Later.”

Fjord scooted away and sat back against the log, hanging his hands over his knees, and hoped to whatever gods were listening that no one else could see his flushed cheeks, or the dopey grin he struggled to strike from his swollen lips. His body was still buzzing with excitement, and the knowledge that Caleb wanted to revisit their activities some other time was not helping him to calm back down.

“There you are,” Nott said when she reached them. She held her hand out expectantly to Fjord, and when he offered her flask back, she snatched it from his hands. “Finished?”

“Ja,” Caleb answered, wiping the corner of his mouth with the cuff of his sleeve, then offered his other arm for her inspection. “I am all patched up now.”

“Right then.” Nott took a swig from the flask and tucked it away. “Jester’s done with the gator so we’re ready to get a move on and find a real place to camp.” She gave them a pointed look and when they didn’t move, she added, “So. Get a move on.”

Slowly the men clambered to their feet and followed the little goblin back to the group. As they wound their way through the cattails and around the puddles, Fjord felt Caleb’s fingers brush against his and he smiled. There would be a later. 

Fjord could hardly wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic! Let me know via kudos or comments, or you can find me [here on tumblr](http://cersei-the-truth-bombardier.tumblr.com/post/175275593609/thank-you). Thanks for reading!


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